Always Coming and Going

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Here is the next installment of my Haiku project.

(I’ve  been immersing myself in the Japanese masters, Issa, Bashō, Buson, Shiki. The haiku form is deceptively simple–more difficult than it appears, if you want to abide by some traditional conventions. My goal is to birth a total of 107 Forest Haikus and mini ‘zen’ poems over the winter, sharing in groups of 5-10.)

——————————————-
Can’t make up her mind
Always coming and going
Winter sister moon
——————————————–
Hey Mister laurel!
Keep an eye on my bedroom
I’m going moon-gazing
——————————————–
Traveled so far, then
Got tangled up in the pines
Mountain mistiness
——————————————–
On the mountain top
Forgot to pack my breakfast
But not my ego
——————————————–
New season, new menu:
Moss and newts, mushrooms and slugs 🐌
Prices are the same
——————————————
Slightest western breeze
Brings these marooned maroon nuts
To the cold ground: “Whop!”
—————————————–
After three days rain
Put out shirts and solitude
to dry in the sun
—————————————-
Lavender dawn:
Wonder whose it is?
—————————————–
When did you arrive?
I’ve been here the whole night long,
Winter web spinner
—————————–
Hazy winter sun
Issa makes a good pillow
Basho a footrest

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Dancing Naked in the Rain

IMG_7027I’ve been immersing myself in the Japanese masters, Issa, Bashō, Buson, Shiki.

The haiku form is deceptively simple–more difficult than it appears, if you want to abide by some traditional conventions.

My goal is to create a total of 107 Forest Haikus and mini ‘zen’ poems over the winter. I’ll share in groups of 5-10. Here are the first few:

Not the only one
dancing naked in the rain
joined by Mister Newt
——————————————–
Going on a walk
enjoy your mid-day orgy,
lovely ladybugs
——————————————–
Light from autumn moon
casting shadows from redwoods
across my bald head
——————————————–
November redwoods
an unspeakable silence
jet engine roaring
——————————————–
Look, there’s a rainbow!
covering my shit with dirt,
I’m in awe of both
——————————————–
You dropped some feathers
Mister Peregrine Falcon
I’ll keep them for you
——————————————–
Just a few days old
and walking across the sky
my baby moon
——————————————–
I’m learning some things
Not sure what it is quite yet
leaking in like rain
—————————————-
No protection here
November’s got me knocked up
with baby poems
—————————————-
Deep autumn sitting
coyote yipping on verge
of liberation

The Face of Hopelessness is a Bright Dawn

IMG_7015That moment you realize
your heroes have given up hope
and the new day
and you realize
you have too

that final addiction
swept up by the wind

but you’ve been draping your cloak over the face of it
because it was too ugly

or so you thought

but you’ve picked up the goggles
from the desert floor
and now you know

it is not ugly at all
but a beauty so foreign, so rare
yet everywhere

you couldn’t recognize it-
the face of what is

When Mud Was Our Friend

IMG_6992Remember when we used to run toward the rain

back when we were in love with the world
and it returned the favor?

when we couldn’t
let raindrops fall to the ground
without our tongues
getting in on the action

or pass a body of water
a pile of leaves
without jumping in

and mud was our friend?

and shin bruises
arms drawn with scratches
numb fingers from
staying out too long

were love bites from the world

and just the clouds in the sky
could evoke a song?

now, is it that our only sunset
is the one that’s a perfect 2×4
through the Device
with Valencia filter
that we heart?

our only storm the one
we can prepare for
adequately
informed three days hence?

the only mud found
on our Goodyear tires?

no mud shalt touch thy feet!

I’ve heard that once in a while
a moon comes
out to play in the sky

but to see her
you have to put some things away

I don’t know if it’s true,
but I might
take a peek this month

I just might even try
to run towards some things

Drinking the Season

IMG_6974November comes to the forest
as an ocean on the head

something finally dissolves
and a man turns to mist
as struggle takes its leave

most birds play it safe
but some brave birds still sing
the rain makes the kid in them
get up and dance

Their whistle and the tappity tap tap
on the roof of the 20 square foot hut
are the only sounds

though sometimes the man swears he can almost hear the moss
grow by the minute
greening boulder
and bolder yet

conquering the forest
with Greenness
and thereby
settling it once and for all

drinking the rain
as the night drinks the dark
and the man drinks the season